Enough For Kurt
by gleelatte
Summary: WARNING: Eating disorder triggers, mild swearing. Blaine is disgusted with himself because he thinks Kurt's disgusted with him... References to 'Tested'. From Chapter 2 onward, italics are thoughts. Well, sort of. You'll understand it when you see it. Hopefully.
1. Chapter 1

This constant longing, this ache in the back of his throat has all started when he was going to make an embarrassingly fattening meal for Kurt.

"What are we having tonight?" Kurt asked, and Blaine replied innocently with the meal that was everything wrong with him. The words somehow displayed his sins, a grotesque vision of calories, horror, and some sick kind of innocence.

Well, it did to Blaine when Kurt reacted.

Blaine would almost like to tell the tale he deserved to endure, a tale where Kurt realised how gross he was and declared his departure.

That would've hurt less than knowing Kurt was _hiding his hatred._

Well, Blaine was as dramatic as his music. Kurt was probably just stressed about looking the part for the spotlight...but Blaine was sucked into thinking otherwise.

A few pounds seemed like one hundred extra kilos making him horrendous, unacceptable.

He couldn't idly listen to this 'health' lecture any damn longer.

That was the first night of burning in his throat. He didn't care if he messed up his voice, he'd tear out his vocal cords for his beautiful boyfriend, the perfect man with self control and dream pipes, destined for Broadway and _looking beautiful in tight clothing._ Blaine knew he definitely can't do that, and made a note to buy clothes a couple sizes too big. Not a mental note, he wrote it down in the bathroom on tear and vomit-stained paper.

Kurt fell asleep to Don't Cry For Me Argentina. Blaine fell asleep to a throbbing in his throat, head, and heart.

….

"Wake up, sleepyhead!" Kurt cheered with a ridiculous grin on his face, "We haven't got any NYADA today. Let's just have fun! Just like when we were in Glee!" Blaine chuckled at Kurt's adorable childish appearance, then remembered his own flabby one. The chuckle faded. "What's wrong?" Kurt asked sadly, "I'm sorry about what I said last night. So sorry. Blaine, you're fine, honestly." Blaine sighed. How'd Kurt know? Anyway, there was no way on earth he'd ever believe Kurt. People truly mean what they say when they say the wrong things.

"Just tired!" Blaine stuck his tongue out, which distracted Kurt from the tears coating his eyes, making them shine like those damned Christmas lights. Blaine fake-giggled through his mask of strength.

Then Kurt's lips sweetly crashed into his, and for a millisecond, he felt genuine. Then it faded. He'd only felt this way since last night, but Blaine knew he'd feel this way for an eternity. He sighed.

"Why so sad?" Kurt urged, "Come on, let's have breakfast!" Blaine's soul ached. There was no way he'd ruin his chances with Kurt by getting more disgusting with breakfast.

"I'm not feeling like breakfast."

"Come on, it's healthy to have breakfast."

Blaine dragged along sadly. "I'll get myself an apple."

"Blaine, even I have more than an apple for breakfast."

"Two."

"Fine." Kurt sighed, "but you're beautiful. Okay?"

"Okay." Blaine said hollowly, a word devoid of meaning.

He was encased in a hug, a scary hug, as Kurt was feeling all of his fat. He couldn't pull away, though. He loved Kurt too much. But he couldn't keep going, he hated himself too much. He ended up giving an awkward, half-hearted hug.

"Your awkwardness is adorable."

Blaine sighed. Kurt was so oblivious. "I know, you little punk!"

"Seriously? I wear scarves, not tattoos."

"And that's not what I meant!"

They collapsed into giggles, Blaine forgetting his fat for a minute.

Until he was alone in front of his vanity, left to cry again.

….

Blaine wrapped himself in a brown, baggy sweater, that he just happened to own. Thank God he did.

"You are an amazing boyfriend, but you have horrendous fashion taste!" Kurt laughed, "I can hardly see you! Oh, and I hate that colour. You look like a poop. An adorable poop, but uh...!"

Blaine defensively said, "Hey! I thought it looked good on me!" Of course, he was lying. In his mind, nothing looked good on him.

"And this is why you need an expert." They giggled like freaks, bursting from laughter next to each other.

"Wear the blue sweater." Kurt commanded, suddenly becoming dead serious. Blaine froze still. He was terrified, the blue sweater showed how much weight he'd gained and yikes, he couldn't wear anything half-decent until he lost weight.

Kurt would not be proud. But damn, Blaine thought, he'll be so proud when he loses weight, becomes less gross…

He couldn't wear the sweater.

"I don't like the blue sweater." Blaine whined.

"Ugh, fine." Kurt sighed dramatically, " _Your_ choice."

Blaine couldn't help but giggle, yet he was dying inside. He wasn't thin or beautiful enough to wear the sweater, and Kurt loves the sweater…

Kurt would love him so much more when he was thin..

Not small enough, look at Kurt, he's so damn beautiful...

Not enough for him...

Even Kurt couldn't make him happier after that depressing thought. He was lost in the tears in his mind, as he sure as hell couldn't cry right now.

"Blaine? What are you thinking about?"

"How amazing you are."

Not a total lie.


	2. Chapter 2

"Let's go shopping, Blaine!" The petrifying words from his fabulous boyfriend. Blaine couldn't go shopping, he'd look disgusting in everything. Maybe when he didn't look flabby and unacceptable, but for now, no. Never.

"I don't want to!" Blaine cried with a childish pout, meant to indicate a joke, trick Kurt into thinking he was okay. Kurt can't know about the thoughts he's having. Kurt would blow it all out of proportion. A bit of self-hatred is nothing, well, that's what Blaine thought.

He was already living a lie, a mess of cover-ups and caricatures that had only just begun.

"Fine." Kurt stuck his tongue out at Blaine, "You're so adorable that I can't bring myself to call you immature. Can I try on some clothes myself then? You can judge for me."

Blaine sighed. Kurt was perfect and thin. (goddamn _beautiful_ , honestly, why does he still settle for his imperfect, overweight self when he could find a shining star like him? _)_ What did he need Blaine to judge for? Kurt's stunning in everything.

 _And look at me, stunning in nothing._

The intoxicating self-hate echoed in his mind, a broken record replaying every fault he had.

 _Stunning in nothing._

 _Stunning in nothing._

 _Stunning in nothing._

Honestly, how did Kurt find him so adorable? He was all fat, everything he'd gained sticking to him, a pointless wad of disgusting blubber dissolving in the NYC crowd and in his thoughts. He wasn't... _himself._ The glorious, slim, Blaine that saved people and serenaded people. The man on a pedestal.

He decayed into this pathetic fatass. Blaine scolded himself again in his head until he blocked out all of the cars, Kurt's voice, the hustle and bustle. He blocked out all forms of life for this personal hellhole he had just created. Almost like a broken version of the amazing artist he was once called. Now he was a blubbery nothing, a disappointment to Kurt, who was still brilliant, shining, stunning. And guess what Blaine was?

 _Stunning in nothing._

 _Nothing._

 _Nothing._

 _Nothing._

 _Nothing._

 _Not like Kurt._

 _Not enough for Kurt._

 _Enough for Kurt._

 _Kurt._

 _Kurt._

 _Kurt._

That kind of reminded him that he had a beautiful life form next to him, and he slipped back into reality, the words 'stunning in nothing' and 'enough for Kurt' still reverberating softly in his mind.

The first thing he heard when he fell back into life was Kurt. Kurt's words were, "Are you okay? You seem kinda...zoned out, stressed too. Blaine, come on, this is a _fun_ day!" He was halfway still in his thoughts, but even in that state he could make out an sweet, innocent chuckle, although there was still worry hiding in Kurt's giggly words. How much? Blaine couldn't tell…

"Yeah...I'm fine."

"Okay. Now come on, I need some cute clothes!"

 _You look cute in anything._

 _I look cute in nothing._

 _Nothing._

 _Nothing._

 _I am nothing now, a pathetic life._

"You're honestly fine?" Kurt was suddenly a bit serious, skeptical. Not too much, though. Kurt couldn't be too serious around clothing, after all.

"Totally. Come on, I want to see how fabulous you look in literally everything!"

 _Which will remind me more about how I'm beautiful in nothing._

 _Nothing._

 _Nothing._

 _Nothing._

Blaine felt like his world was crushed, but you know what? He glued that 'stunning' (not anymore, never again, you lame, pudgy man) performance smile on, which was the only aspect of that amazing Warbler Blaine that was left in his life.

 _Nothing is left._

…

"Oh God. Blaine, do I look fat in these jeans? Be honest. I need to be brilliant for the spotlight."

 _I guess you forgot last night, and this morning? Well, that's okay. You get adorably forgetful sometimes. Anyway, haven't you noticed? You're perfect. I'm a fatass. Have you somehow forgotten how disgusting I am?_

"Perfect as always."

 _I will never be like you._

"Really?"

 _I'm a fatass._

 _You're perfect._

 _You're perfect._

 _You're perfect._

"How can you of all people be insecure?"

 _I'm so disgusting and grotesque, you're so damn tiny, I've gained so much weight._

 _You're so damn tiny._

 _I'm jealous of my boyfriend._

 _Crap, I'm such a horrible boyfriend._

Kurt sighed dramatically, "Everyone in my class is perfect." _Perfect like you. I don't get this._

Then Kurt remembered everything.

"Oh My God, I'm so sorry! Blaine, honestly, you're beautiful. I love you. God, I'm such a terrible role model. I'm so sorry, Blaine."

 _I used to help you._

 _Now I'm too disgusting to, I guess._

 _You shouldn't have to be my role model._

 _I'm meant to be in control._

 _But instead I've gained weight and I'm a useless fatass._

 _And now I guess I can't face reality._

...


	3. Chapter 3

...

That day was bliss, even with self-hatred clawing at his mind. He felt amazing with Kurt, on top of the clouds.

But when they had less time, everything turned into hell.

...

The mornings felt melancholy.

Not depressing, like classes, just melancholy, described by a sigh, an apple, and devious plans to make _sure_ the stunning man he was doing this for didn't notice. (God, he was evil now, too.)

 _That wasn't hard when it seemed that Kurt was in a constant, blinding haze of thrill, still so young and excited over New York. So sweet. Ugh, shut up Blaine. God, I'm still like a kid when it comes to my infatuation._

 _Infatuation._

 _Fat._

 _Fatass._

He wouldn't say mornings were total darkness. More like shadows with a glimmer of shining light that was Kurt's smile.

But, yeah, when it came to being cooped up in a class of insults that he'd never noticed before, the ache of not being enough for the damn prestigious place...

NYADA was _hell._

 _.._

He tried to dance, sing, and act with passion.

But it was replaced by a throbbing of the mind, as he discovered that it wasn't just Kurt that thought he was fat, it was everyone. (Oh, and maybe the fact that it was lunchtime and he'd only had a damn apple today.)

The stares he thought were there burned into his vulnerable mind, etched into his young head.

 _They're looking at the body that's not enough...  
_

...

"Hey, Blaine! Come on, kiss me!" Kurt chuckled.

They didn't share many classes, so he'd hardly seen his boyfriend for ages. Kurt was on a high of adrenaline after a class that went well.

Highs of adrenaline bring highs of more uncharacteristic obliviousness, but what about when everything faded?

Blaine would have to make _sure_ Kurt never saw. Kurt couldn't feel guilty about this. No. Never. No.

However, at least the small kiss brought some heart into his life, his life that just recently turned empty, like pouring out the contents of an hourglass and staring at the useless remains.

 _I was always useless..._

...

 _Perfect for Kurt._

 _Perfect for NYADA._

 _Perfect for life._

 _Fatass._

 _Fatass._

 _Fatass._

His mantra as he emptied his guts into the toilet after a guilty cronut sprinkled with paralyzing fear. It had been a while now, and Blaine's head was constantly pounding. The clean, fancy decorum (even in the bathroom) seemed slightly out of place for a life so messed up.

 _You're so disgusting, weren't the cronuts the start of your descent into bulging oblivion, the waste of your talent?  
_

...

When he noticed the growing bags under his eyes, Blaine realized he still had some happiness, but it could definitely fade...

It could fade, soon. **Soon.**

 _Was this even about Kurt or NYADA anymore? Or was this about never being enough, full stop?  
_

Blaine was shocked at how quickly he was falling into a pit of darkness.

...

He still found his innocent, oblivious Kurt amazing, and fun to be around.

He was definitely the only one who could bring him out of this weird state, that was obvious from the start. (Even when it was all _about_ Kurt...)

Not by _knowing_ , or _fixing._

Just his laugh, his silly ways, his Broadway obsession, his little quirks that brought joy to his life.

Why did Kurt have to assume everything was fine after he simply told Blaine he was fine and that he needed to be healthy a couple of times, **before** everything turned into dark pandemonium?

Furthermore, it wasn't really... _Kurt_ -like.

Kurt was always right on the ball, right on the mark, so bright, so damn bright... (another way he was perfection, and another area in which Blaine wasn't worthy.)

Blaine wondered if Kurt even cared about him anymore, because everything was... obvious now. Blaine didn't even know if he lost anything at all, but he definitely never used to walk with his head hanging down.

Kurt would never notice like he did at the absolute beginning when he skipped a meal, far from it...

However, there was one dent in Kurt's obliviousness.

"Is everything okay? Are you okay?" Every. Single. Day. Was it because he just cared, and knew NYADA was stressful? Or did he notice?

 **He can't notice.**

Maybe Kurt had always seen it, and was just too scared to mention anything.

 _I literally just realized that. God, I'm such a crappy boyfriend._

There was no way in hell Blaine would mention anything himself, though.

No way in bloody hell.

All that was left to do was sit back, relax, have a laughing fit with Kurt while watching High School Musical, and wait until things got worse. Too horrible to ignore.

 _Is that thought relaxing or morbidly depressing to me?_

It was both.


	4. Chapter 4

"Come on, let's watch Chicago."

"Absolutely!"

A rush of love sped through Blaine, Kurt still made his heart beat ridiculously fast, like some kind of infinite schoolgirl crush, defying time like gravity.

 _Because he's still beautiful. You're not._

Lodged into his mind, that phrase had so many holes, but he was just stuck in his brain again. The passion was dulled by that damn feeling of not being enough, as always...

 _Let's sit back, relax, watch...Chicago, this time, and wait until things get too horrible to ignore._

"Blaine." Kurt whispered awkwardly and hopelessly. Oh God, please, please, fate is kinder than this-

Kurt's delicate, pale, shaking hand was held in his. Everything was blissful a second ago, but now the world was chaotic and morbid guessing games were on the horizon.

"I know." Kurt croaked out, "But I denied it. I'm so sorry, for everything. Please, please don't do this to yourself." Blaine was struck with pain, guilt.

But there's an absence of self-hatred for once. Did it leave? How? It's been eating away at my brain for what seems like eternity now...

"I want to be perfect like you." The air felt bitter, but at least he could be open. Strange, it was strange to be open now. It was damn heartbreaking, but it was freedom, love, passion. I need this, I need this, I need this.

"Perfect?" Kurt looked so shattered, yet he smiled softly. "I'm insecure about that too, Blaine. You remember, right?"

"Yes, when we were shopping. I was so confused."

"Maybe as stars, we can only pretend to shine."

"What?"

"Think about it!"

That was how pain became peace, for that moment.

The self-hatred was eradicated.

...

But these beautiful pauses are scarce and don't last, and it was the breeze of tingling lightness in the head that lifted him back to a dark reality.

 _I'll still puke tomorrow. I have nothing inside of me, but I'll probably puke tonight. It's like things are too brilliant, and I adore it, but I can't live without this crap. Sorry, Kurt. I need this. I started for you, but I need it to light up a stage like you do so naturally, which is ironic because sometimes I think I'll lose my personality to this, become nothing but an empty stage performer. Will that ever happen? Have I already lost a part of me?_

The thoughts hammered down on his exhausted, tortured head until they disappeared, seemingly into darkness.

 **Darkness.**

Then one final thought.

 ** _Is this what it's like to live without a soul? Or is this what it's like to give up everything for the stage?_**


End file.
